So saying, he grasped the map firmly with both hands, and went out as if
afraid of being answered.
The seven women whom he had addressed broke into a subdued murmur, out
of which emerged Francie's, "Really, the Forsytes!" and Aunt Juley's:
"He must have his feet in mustard and hot water to-night, Hester; will
you tell Jane? The blood has gone to his head again, I'm afraid...."
That evening, when she and Hester were sitting alone after dinner, she
dropped a stitch in her crochet, and looked up:
"Hester, I can't think where I've heard that dear Soames wants Irene to
come back to him again. Who was it told us that George had made a funny
drawing of him with the words, 'He won't be happy till he gets it'?"
"Eustace," answered Aunt Hester from behind The Times; "he had it in his
pocket, but he wouldn't show it us."
Aunt Juley was silent, ruminating. The clock ticked, The Times crackled,
the fire sent forth its rustling purr. Aunt Juley dropped another
stitch.
"Hester," she said, "I have had such a dreadful thought."
"Then don't tell me," said Aunt Hester quickly.
"Oh! but I must. You can't think how dreadful!" Her voice sank to a
whisper:
"Jolyon--Jolyon, they say, has a--has a fair beard, now."